


spiderman, deadpool, and jamie lee curtis

by rippedjeansandloudmusic



Category: All For The Game, the foxhole court
Genre: 3k, Aaron's POV, F/M, M/M, also if u hate aaron fuck off alright, because why not, but it's in aaron's pov, dont worry its an andreil fic, if andrew did the same thing you'd praise him, im a slut for andreil, outsider pov, so treat him like a good person, spideypool AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-24 23:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20023081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rippedjeansandloudmusic/pseuds/rippedjeansandloudmusic
Summary: neil is deadpool, andrew's spiderman, and aaron's a medical major but doesn't have any braincellsaaron's pov tooalso there's no terribly horrible backgrounds because i love my babies too much(tho tilda is still a bitch)





	spiderman, deadpool, and jamie lee curtis

**Author's Note:**

> let's thank not only transneiljosten on tumblr for letting me steal their idea, but also to my girlfriend's hoodie for keeping my warm through this endeavor, and the several hershey bars that kept me alive.   
> this is just a longer version of the aforementioned transneiljosten's spideypool au, so give them love! they're the plot man i'm just the one that has the time to write it out

Aaron, despite popular belief, didn’t hate his brother.

He was incredibly excited to learn he even had a brother, even if he wasn’t exactly the nicest person. He was a bit disturbed to find they shared the same face, but details, details.

Andrew and Aaron Minyard were virtually identical to the untrained eye. But, if you looked closely enough (read: if either of them _let_ you look close enough) you would find Andrew Minyard’s nose was slightly crooked from when he fell off his bike at the age of thirteen, breaking it on impact. You could also find the groove in Aaron Minyard’s nose, made by years of wearing shitty glasses. You couldn’t find these grooves in Andrew Minyard’s nose mostly because he didn’t know he needed glasses until the age of nineteen - when he ran full-force into Aaron Minyard at their city’s annual Superhero Parade in South Carolina.

After both regaining their balance, they made eye contact, and the first words out of Andrew Minyard’s mouth were: “Fuck, I knew I needed glasses.”

And now, as Aaron walks down the sidewalk after his classes, frames abandoned for contacts, he’s starting to think he needs to update his prescription because what’s happening cannot _actually_ be happening.

First of all, Deadpool is sitting on the roof next to his and Andrew’s apartments.

They live next door to each other at the closest half-way point between Palmetto State University, where Aaron was working through his fifth and final year, and their city’s newspaper The Daily Bugle, where Andrew worked as the city’s crime reporter. Andrew double majored in criminal studies and journalism when he was in college, so he was the only one really qualified for the position.

Anyway, back to the present: _Deadpool is sitting on the apartment building next to Aaron’s_ , and Aaron is terrified.

Deadpool has his mask pulled up over his mouth so he could smoke a cigarette, and a second or two after releasing the smoke from his lungs he looks down at Aaron, smirks, and says, “Hey, Spidey.”

Now Aaron was terrified and also confused.

He could feel his shoulder’s tense and nearly tripped over his feet with how fast he stopped, almost like his torso only got the memo of _Hey, we’re no longer walking_ half a second before his legs did.

Nearly immediately Deadpool seems to notice his mistake.

Aaron’s vision, while now questionably clear, could see as his mouth twitched for a minute, and then his cigarette came down to rest on the ledge of the building. “You’re not Spidey,” he notes, quite brilliantly, and then stubs the cherry out on the cement floor beneath him.

Aaron was just about to say _No shit, you freak_ when his complex’s door opens, revealing his twin brother, Andrew Minyard. He must’ve seen the shock on Aaron’s face because his gaze went immediately to the roof. His neutral expression turns exasperated as he rolled his eyes, turns on his heel, and marches back into the building, muttering, “Nope, not doing it. Not today, Satan.”

Aaron watches as Deadpool brought out a pack of cigarettes and lit another one, seemingly unaware of the fact that he just scared the life out of a stranger. Aaron stood in this spot for a second, utterly confused and baffled by what just happened, before finally running into the building after his brother.

 _“Andrew,”_ he starts, watching the man in question as he continues up the stairs, “who was that?”

Andrew doesn’t stop walking but replies, “Oh, that’s just Deadpool.”

 _No shit,_ Aaron's brain spits out, and his mouth follows shortly after.

Andrew shoots him a look over his shoulder and ignores the outburst.

When they come to the third floor - their floor - Andrew walks over to his apartment, unlocks the door and leaves it wide open, knowing Aaron will follow him in. Aaron, of course, does.

He takes a seat on the far right side of the couch - Andrew gets the left - and waits for Andrew to emerge from the kitchen. He does five minutes later, balancing a pint of chocolate chip ice cream and two mugs of hot chocolate in his hands. He slides one of the mugs to Aaron across his glass coffee table, spilling a third of it, but Aaron just ignores the mess.

Aaron takes a deep breath, given the past five minutes to begin processing what just happened, and asks, “Okay, you hang out with Deadpool - the Deadpool - a man infamous for being a fucking assassin, killing people for money, and you’re just okay with that. You’re chill.”

Andrew takes a huge bite of ice cream (Aaron stopped wondering how much ice cream he could shovel into his mouth four years ago) and doesn’t even bother swallowing before saying, “Yeah, why?”

Aaron facepalms.

After a few minutes of eating - or in Aaron’s case, drinking - in silence, Andrew reaches over and turns the television on, but turns it down so much it’s just a moving picture. After a few minutes of trying and failing to know what’s being said by Oliver Queen, he turns back to Andrew, mug of chocolate now cold, and inquires, “How did you meet him?”

Andrew doesn't make any effort to show he even heard Aaron, but after a few seconds of silence, he responds. “I saw him going to steal that cutout of the Activia lady.”

Aaron blinks. “I’m sorry?”

Andrew seems to already be bored with the conversation. “I saw him go try and steal the cardboard cut out of the Activia lady,” he deadpans, “and approached him, asked ‘Why the fuck are you stealing the Activia lady?'.”

Aaron nods, trying his best to understand the conversation. “So you tried to stop him from stealing a cardboard cutout of Jamie Lee Curtis.”

Andrew brings his mug back up to his mouth. “No, dumbass, I was also there to steal the cutout.” He takes a drink and sets it back down on the table, ignoring the coasters Aaron bought him for their birthday last November. “I wasn’t just going to let him take it before I could, so I confronted him.”

Aaron, at this point, completely gives up trying to understand this story. “I’m not even gonna ask,” he mumbles, probably too quiet for Andrew to hear. “But I don’t see Jamie Lee Curtis anywhere, so I’m assuming he ended up winning that fight?”

Andrew shakes his head, mouth full of ice cream, and has the decency to swallow before answering this time. “No, we split custody - that’s why we hang out.”

Aaron narrows his eyes at his brother, trying so very hard to take him seriously.

They relax in Andrew’s apartment for maybe an hour or two more before Aaron leaves, the excuse of an essay due on the tip of his tongue, and slips into his apartment. He promptly ditches his gray backpack at the doorway.

Googling ‘deadpool spiderman jamie lee curtis’ gets him a surprising amount of search results, anything from photos of their fights together with a suspicious cutout in the background to photoshopped family photos, but nothing taking the topic seriously.

In Aaron’s rush to find proof that his brother is Spiderman he doesn’t even think about how weird this is: his brother has split custody of a Jamie Lee Curtis cardboard cutout with Deadpool, resident dark-web assassin, and the possibility of his brother being Spiderman slowly climbs with each photo he sees and each article he reads (how there are even articles written on this makes no damn sense, but they exist nonetheless). After maybe three hours looking at everything from helicopter-footage from Fox News and fanfiction with the #spideypool tag, he finally takes a break.

“No way,” Aaron thinks aloud. “There’s no way in hell Andrew is Spiderman.”

He pulls out a piece of lined paper and writes on the top of the paper, REASONS MY TWIN BROTHER IS SPIDERMAN AND REASONS WHY HE DEFINITELY ISN’T.

Honestly, Aaron should’ve known this was going to happen.

Andrew gets Thursdays and Fridays off from work and Aaron doesn’t have any classes on Thursday, so they spend most of that time holed up together in one of their apartments. Today is no exception.

Aaron sees the cutout of Jamie Lee Curtis for the first time as it looms in the corner of Andrew’s apartment, and to say it’s creepy as shit would be an understatement. He thought the cutout would be Jamie Lee Curtis sized - maybe five foot eight -but he was incredibly wrong. Her head reached the ceiling and then some. Andrew had to bend the cutout at the neck for her to stand upright in the apartment, so whenever Aaron stood in front of it he felt like he was being judged.

Halfway through the newest episode of Green Arrow, something hits the window of the apartment, right by the fire escape. Andrew jumps up immediately and goes to find the source of the noise. A few seconds later Aaron hears a new voice exclaim, “Andrew, I found a cat!” and then his brother’s voice responds, “Put your mask on, you glorified gimp, my brother’s over.”

Aaron is already tired.

Andrew and Deadpool seem to be fairly close for a civilian-antihero duo, saying Deadpool knows Andrew’s name. He wonders if Andrew knows Deadpool’s name.

“Jamie’s inside if you want to see her,” Andrew says, reappearing in the living room with a barely-taller Deadpool trailing, a batshit crazy orange cat cradled in his arms. He doesn’t even give so much as a nod at Aaron before walking over to Andrew’s fridge, opening it, then turning around less than five seconds later and telling Andrew, “You’ve got absolutely nothing in this fridge.”

“Untrue,” Andrew informs him, “there’s a bottle of Hershey's in the door.”

Deadpool looks to the door in question, then shakes his head. “Nope. Just, uh, mustard - you don’t even _like_ mustard.”

Andrew shrugs.

Aaron, rolling his eyes, pulls out his phone. “I’ll postmate something - Subway?”

Andrew, even just _hearing_ that suggestion, dry heaved. Deadpool just looked to Aaron, clearly also disgusted by the suggestion. “You’re kidding, right?”

Aaron sighs. “Then what do you two want to eat?”

Andrew walks over to stand beneath Jamie Lee Curtis, then looks up and stares into her dead, cold, computer-printed eyes. Aaron, scared that he’s witnessing something borderline-religious, nearly doesn’t catch it when Andrew supplies, “Taco Bell.” Deadpool hums in agreement.

Aaron blinks once, twice, three times, then says, “No. I’m not eating Taco Bell for lunch.” _Not to mention sober._

Andrew, seemingly expecting this resistance from his medical-major brother, already has his phone out to order the Taco Bell himself.

“You know Taco Bell has a delivery service, right?” Deadpool asks.

Andrew nods. “I know. I have the app.”

Aaron sinks into his brother’s shitty couch, muttering, “Jesus fucking Christ.” If from nothing more than the daily crime-fighting Deadpool does - and, if his speculation is correct, his brother does as well - they should be dead by just how much bullshit they put into their bodies. 

The delivery boy doesn’t seem to notice that Deadpool is the man that opens the door, or maybe he’s just too dead inside to care. Just as the boy is about to ask for a tip, Deadpool slams the door on him.

Andrew's apartment doesn’t have a dining room table so he sinks into the couch alongside his brother. Deadpool, carrying the _Supreme Party Pack_ box, sets the box on the coffee table but doesn’t sit down himself. He instead walks over to the cutout of Jamie Lee Curtis.

Andrew, seemingly aware of where this is going, shakes his head. “No. I’m not eating next to Jamie.”

Deadpool looks over his shoulder at Andrew, his mouth dropping open in a way that’s almost comical, visible even under his mask. “This is our child, Andrew,” he insists, “I’m not just going to let her eat alone.”

Aaron doesn’t bring up the fact that a cardboard cutout doesn’t need to eat.

Andrew just shakes his head, already dropping the subject.

Aaron asks, “You are aware that Jamie Lee Curtis is, like, sixty, right? And also just a cardboard cutout.”

Deadpool, struggling to get the cutout out of the corner Andrew put her in, pauses in his struggle and looks over at Aaron. “And?” he drawls, seemingly aware of this fact but ignoring it.

Aaron doesn’t understand why Deadpool's imprinted on an Activia lady cardboard cutout, but he's almost scared to ask.

After their impromptu lunch they watch the news for a few minutes, Andrew weirdly tuned into everything going on. After a story of some explosion downtown, Andrew shoots Deadpool a look that says _Well?_

Deadpool gets up slowly, stretches a bit, then lets his hands fall to his sides with a slap. “Well,” he says, “this was fun. See you later, Andrew.” He then turns and walks out using the door of the apartment.

Andrew and Aaron sit for a few more seconds in silence, and after the door shuts Andrew starts scrolling through the different channels. When Aaron looks over Andrew has a set to his shoulders, so tense they nearly reach his ears. _He’s worried he’ll get hurt_ , Aaron thinks, and while he wants to stay and try to help him calm down - it’s not like Andrew can _do_ anything - he knows Andrew does best when he’s alone, especially when he gets tense.

“I’ve got homework due tomorrow,” Aaron says, getting up from his spot. “I’m gonna go start it.”

Andrew ignores him.

“But, before I go - since you know Deadpool, doesn’t that also mean you also know Spiderman?”

Andrew’s hand stops halfway to the remote. “Yeah,” he answers, turning off the television, “I do. Deadpool says Spiderman’s got an eight pack. He said Spiderman is fucking ripped.”

Aaron rolls his eyes at the sarcasm dripping from his tone. “Yeah, right.”

On his way out the door, he turns around once more, sees Andrew begin to start to his bedroom, and says, “He’ll be okay, Andrew.”

Andrew stops for half a second before he ignores Aaron once again, continuing down the hall.

Seven weeks later Aaron’s walking around downtown with one of his classmates, Katelyn, who he shares AP Biology with. Aaron, completely pathetic about anything even remotely romance-related, was completely shocked when she pulled him aside after class and asked if he would be interested in a date. When he suggested just a walk around downtown - he didn't really trust anything big, considering he had an anti-hero in his brother's apartment more often than not that talked all about the best place to put a bomb to get the most casualties - she gave him a blinding smile and he realized, very quickly, that there was no way this was going to end well.

He didn’t think that ‘not ending well’ and ‘a fucking supervillain-superhero fight interrupting our date’ were mutually exclusive, but he should've known they were.

He arrives on the scene just as a glint of metal pierces through a man’s body just out of his line of view, but from Katelyn’s small shriek she wasn’t as lucky. She was taller than him by no more than four or five inches, but apparently, those four or five inches were enough to give her a clear view of a man getting stabbed.

And the faces that walk out of the chaos are, of course, Spiderman and Deadpool.

Aaron, not sure if he should just turn around or if he should flip Deadpool off, throws his head back to stare at the sky. But instead of getting a glimpse of the sky, he gets a good look at the building across the street from them - the building currently on fucking fire.

It’s the Daily Bugle.

He immediately forgets that he’s with Katelyn, breaking into a sprint across the pavement toward the supers. “Deadpool!” he screams, but he knows his voice is lost in the crowds of people also screaming Deadpool at the top of their lungs. Aaron pushes his way through the crowd, stepping on the backs of ankles and tripping people when needed until he’s at the front.

Deadpool finds his eyes immediately.

“Andrew,” Aaron explains, nearly out of breath. “Have you seen Andrew?”

Deadpool just stands there for a second, and some part of Aaron wants to rip the mask off his face so he can see his reaction. “I, uh...” Deadpool's voice drifts off and he spares a look over at Spiderman. After a beat too long he looks back at Aaron, “I’ve seen him around.”

The eyes of Spiderman’s mask widen for half a second, but the swiftness is enough to grab Aaron’s attention. “Oh fuck, you know what, I just remembered something,” Spiderman starts, “I gotta go feed my cat, but if I see Andrew I’ll be sure to tell him you’re looking for him.”

He then reaches his hand out toward the nearest building, flicks his wrist, and web-slings out of sight.

In the time it took this conversation to happen Katelyn found her way through the crowd. She reaches forward and grabs the right side of Aaron’s jacket, tugs it a bit to get him to look at her, and the traces of confusion and fear in her eyes and on her brow are enough to give him a break from the thought of ‘ _Fuck Andrew’s dead fuck fuck fuck;_ and instead think, _‘Oh, shit. I just ditched her.’_ She doesn’t ask about Aaron running away, though; she instead asks, “What’s wrong?”

Aaron does his best to explain - how Andrew works at Daily Bugle, works at the building currently on fire, and how he isn’t sure Andrew’s even alive, and dear God, what happens if he’s not? - and she reaches down to grab his hand when he’s done, then tugs him gently away from the crowd of people. When he doesn’t budge she explains: “Andrew won't be able to find you if you’re surrounded by people, Aaron - it’s better if we stand off to the side.”

He takes a few deep breaths. She’s right, he knows, so he lets her drag him back to the sidewalk they were originally at. This was probably a bad decision, though, because now all he can stare at it the Daily Bugle as firemen start pulling out unconscious bodies, none of them small enough to be his brother but still making his heart miss a beat every time.

“Hey, Aaron,” Katelyn’s saying, squeezing his hand, “I need you to stay here, okay? Don’t wander off.”

 _How could I leave?_ he thinks, _Andrew could be fucking dead - I need to stay here._

“Not physically, dummy,” she answers, and oh, he said that aloud, didn’t he? “I can’t have you having a panic attack right now, how else would we spot your brother?”

“We’re identical twins,” Aaron tells her. Then, because he needs to explain, “He wears contacts, though, so he’s not wearing glasses like I am. His nose is crooked, too, from when he broke it when we were younger. He wears all black, too, one time I looked into his closet and it reminded me of Wednesday Adams.”

Katelyn gives a small laugh, and Aaron tries to remind himself where his feet are planted.

“What’s he like?” she asks, “Are you two, like, psychic?”

“I wish we were,” he snaps, not thinking. “Then I’d know if he’s fucking dead or not.”

Katelyn doesn't seem to be affected by this, though, because her voice is still level as she continues talking. “Hey, he’s alive, alright?” She squeezes his hand, trying to help him calm down, “Spiderman’s gonna find him, and he’ll meet us here, okay?”

Aaron takes a deep breath. He doesn’t know if he believes her, really, but he has to try.

“Andrew was put up for adoption when we were young, too young to remember,” Aaron tells her, though he’s not sure why he does. And suddenly he’s talking so fast he isn’t thinking, he’s just talking and talking and talking and telling her everything, way too much for a first date.

“We only learned about each other when he ran into me - quite literally - at the annual Superhero Parade. We were nineteen. My mom refuses to talk about him, and we cut off ties with her soon after we found one another. She hasn't even tried to get back into contact with either of us.”

Katelyn’s head tilts to the side like a curious puppy. “What about your father?”

Aaron’s mind went blank. _What about your father?_

“I-” he starts, “I never really thought-”

“Aaron,” Andrew’s voice interrupts, barely loud enough to be heard above the ambulance sirens and screaming teens thirsting after Deadpool and Spiderman, and Aaron cuts himself off immediately. Katelyn and he look to their left, where Andrew is standing - perfectly fine - eyes staring directly into Aaron’s soul. “Spiderman said you were looking for me.”

Andrew walks over to stand next to Aaron. He gives Katelyn a glance, “Who’s this?”

“Uh, this is - this is Katelyn,” Aaron responds. “We were going on a walk downtown.”

Andrew looks her up and down as though she was a sculpture at a museum he didn’t want to be at. After a few seconds, he turns back to Aaron.

If Andrew didn’t despise any sort of physical contact ever, Aaron would probably hug him.

“I thought you were dead, you piece of shit,” Aaron says.

Andrew gives him a solemn nod. “It was my lunch break, I headed over to a restaurant a few blocks away.”

Aaron nods, squeezes Katelyn’s hand, and takes a deep breath. “Just,” he pleads, “don’t do that again.”

Aaron watches Andrew’s chest as he, too, takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

Aaron, despite being anything but ignorant, was fucking struggling with his brother.

Not necessarily with their relationship - they still lived next door to each other, still saw each other for at least half an hour a day, still talked - but with Aaron’s understanding of Andrew’s relationships.

The piece of lined paper turned into ten pieces, each filled back and front with reasons Andrew definitely _is_ Spiderman, and reasons he most certainly is _not_. He’s also so confused about Andrew’s relationship with Deadpool because Aaron is nearly 100% sure Andrew at least likes Deadpool, but Deadpool is clearly head over heels for Spiderman. Now, if Andrew is Spiderman, this is great - if he’s not, this could go downhill very quickly.

Katelyn, who has all but encouraged this sudden (and incredibly strange) interest in his brother’s life, asks him one day, “Why do you care so much?”

Aaron, at the time, didn’t have an answer for her. He just doesn’t want Andrew to be hurt, he thinks. He doesn’t want him to feel shitty since his entire childhood was just one big swatch of different shitty colors, and that makes it so anyone who can hurt Andrew is immediately put under Aaron’s microscope.

So, when he and Katelyn are channel surfing and come across an interview between Spiderman and Deadpool in which they admit to having been ‘seeing one another’, he doesn’t know to feel.

“Well, if you’re so sure he’s Spiderman, then it’s not too big of a deal, then, is it?” Katelyn asks, and Aaron still just isn’t sure.

When he sees Andrew the next day, though, he knows he's not exactly happy with this knowledge.

There’s a tenseness in his brother's shoulders that Aaron can only explain to be from just learning that his, uh, crush (?) on Deadpool was unrequited.

But when, two days after the interview aired, he walks in on Andrew and Deadpool making out on _Aaron’s spot on the couch,_ he lets his backpack hit the ground - alerting the two to the fact that he was standing right there - and immediately begins throwing questions. 

"First of all, what the fuck?" Aaron starts, then points at Deadpool. "Aren't you with Spiderman?"

Aaron sort of feels like a parent that just walked in on his son making out with the next-door neighbor. Andrew quickly tries to pus his hair back into some semblance of normal, pulls his shirt back down to cover his stomach, and clears his throat. Deadpool, unable to be in any state of wardrobe-disarray due to his suit being one piece, just pulls his mask back down over his mouth. He turns to Andrew and says, "Man, and we thought I was dumb," before walking over to the nearest window, saluting a goodbye to Aaron, and falling out to the sidewalk below. 

"Andrew, seriously?" he asks, because _God,_ "If anyone finds out you're trying to steal Spiderman's man you'll be fucking dead meat, dude, we gotta keep this under wraps-"

Aaron cuts himself off. 

Andrew, despite Aaron walking in on him and Deadpool playing tonsil tennis even though Deadpool was _taken,_ lets out a nearly audible sigh, letting his head hit the wall behind him. 

Aaron's a bit confused. Then, suddenly, it hits him. 

"You thought I was homophobic," he asks, though it sounds more like a statement. 

Andrew doesn't comment. 

"Jesus, Andrew," Aaron breathes, "I don't care who you love, man, I care that you're face-fucking a _taken man."_

Andrew scoffs, but Aaron can tell he's very, very glad that Aaron isn't currently slinging slurs at him. 

And, after a few seconds of Andrew not at all caring about the fact that he just made out with Spiderman's boyfriend, Aaron's finally convinced.

"You _are_ Spiderman!"

Andrew throws a mug at him and hisses a _"Shut the fuck up,"_ but Aaron's too glad to care. 

He doesn't like Deadpool - not even a little bit, really - for more reasons than one. But he makes Andrew happy, so Aaron will learn to suffer in near silence. 

(And when Andrew crashes into Aaron’s apartment a few hours later to find his brother’s bedroom floor covered in papers with bullet points for or against him being Spiderman, all he has to say is, “‘They both have cats’ - really, Aaron? You’re a medical major, for fuck's sake.”)


End file.
